


Thoughtful

by Texan_Red_Rose



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Background Relationships, Developing Relationship, F/F, Romantic Fluff, Sharing a Bed
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-29
Updated: 2018-09-29
Packaged: 2019-07-18 20:12:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,573
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16125872
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Texan_Red_Rose/pseuds/Texan_Red_Rose
Summary: Brigitte's yet to work up the nerve to really talk to D.Va, but when it looks like the former pro gamer might sacrifice sleep in order to repair Meka, she opts to step in and help out.





	Thoughtful

**Author's Note:**

> Background Pharmercy and Lena/Emily.

Brigitte rolled her neck, trying to work out the kinks as the rest of the team went ahead of her, ducking into the recently- and illicitly- refurbished Overwatch Gibraltar Base. The last explosion had rocked her rather hard, enough to dent the armor just behind her right shoulder blade, and the pressure started giving her a headache about halfway through the flight back. Angela checked her over, of course, and patched up the cut along her right cheek, but then she’d become distracted when Fareeha joined them mid flight, her suit malfunctioning due to a direct hit to her back. Though, it likely went further than that as she needed help walking, and even Reinhardt was slow to head inside, his usual boisterous laughter absent as he trudged alongside an equally exhausted Lena. At the very least, they had beds waiting for them- well, cots, more like.

After Winston summoned the remaining agents, they’d slowly started fixing the old place up, replacing the systems destroyed the night Reaper attempted to compromise the former agents’ identities and locations, and it could probably be considered a halfway decent operating base by this point. They’d had to salvage a lot of scrap to do it, though, and Brigitte had to push her own skills to the brink to accomplish  _a lot_  of it- with Winston’s help, of course, and a few calls to Papa when she managed to get stuck.

However, being unofficially reformed- criminally so, in fact- came with a few… drawbacks. Aside from the lack of funding, they also didn’t have nearly the resources for intelligence gathering, which made every mission they undertook far more dangerous than it would be otherwise- and when dealing with an organization like Talon, that already set the bar pretty high. It seemed like every time they went out, they ran a higher chance of not coming back.

But she could handle that. After Reinhardt decided he would answer the recall, he’d warned her that it wouldn’t be a journey she should expect to survive without earning her fair share of scars. She knew what she signed up for and wouldn’t have it any other way; sitting back and letting others take the risks stopped being an option a long time ago and the increased danger wouldn’t sway her.

“You okay?”

Her shoulders jumped, though she tried to play the motion off by stretching her arms as high as her dented armor would allow. “Uh, yeah, yeah. That last blast rocked me, that’s all. It was a pretty tough fight.” Internally, she winced. Regardless of it being  _true_ , she probably didn’t want to say that. “I mean, we won, but… still…”

“I understand.” One would think it’d be impossible to miss the heavy tread of the MEKA behind her but it’d somehow slipped her mind, trying too hard to focus on anything other than its pilot. “It can be difficult to rest after such a close victory. You’re always wondering if you can improve as much as your enemy does before the next time you meet.”

And  _that_ was exactly why she shouldn’t have said that. Unlike her, Hana Song, the world famous D.Va, had won countless battles before ever receiving the summons from Winston. Sure, Brigitte had helped Reinhardt chase out a gang or two, but she hadn’t accomplished what D.Va had, hadn’t faced that level of loss and hardship, of nearly being killed in the heat of battle just to recover and march into the fires again. Brigitte chased the legends of such heroism but D.Va had  _lived_ it.

“I think we will, though,” she said, hoping that a little bit of optimism wouldn’t be out of place, or unwelcome. “Talon knows we’re back and we’re still catching them off guard. That has to count for something, right?”

“Maybe.” Risking it, she glanced over, noting the cracks along the MEKA’s visor, how bits of it had chipped off during the fight. Much to her surprise, D.Va had a smile on her lips, though she seemed tired- although it could be the beginnings of a black eye simply making her appear so- and let out a soft chuckle. “I like a challenge as much as anyone but, next time, I hope we’re on easy mode.”

“Yeah. Me, too.” Despite coming to terms with the precarious position she now occupied- fighting to protect the world while being labeled a criminal, working with scrap metal to repair and replace state-of-the-art machinery, risking life and limb day in and day out- it did worry her, if she allowed herself to be honest. Just, not for her own sake. “Maybe we can rotate the teams. Get a few days off before going back out?”

“I don’t think so.” In the blink of an eye, the exhaustion gave way to the fire that seemed to fill the woman whenever they prepared for a mission, the drive of a competitor who would never back down from a competition, no matter the kind. “If you want to win a tournament, you have to field your best players, and that’s us.”

Brigitte couldn’t quite figure out what to say to that- although she’d become enamored with gadgetry at an early age, video games didn’t bring with them the same satisfaction as disassembling the console and putting it back together did- and she rarely  _could_ come up with something suitable whenever D.Va talked like that. Part of the reason she’d avoided talking to the former pro gamer, lest she look like an idiot.

… the remainder of the reason, of course, being that she’d never quite mastered talking to pretty girls in general, but that was besides the point.

Trying to buy herself some time to think up a response, Brigitte ducked into the base ahead of the larger mech, seeing as both of them wouldn’t be able to fit through the door at the same time. Clearing out the hangar had taken two weeks alone, just because a certain scientist seemed to use it more as a gym than to store any sort of vehicles, but she hadn’t quite gotten around to expanding the door to make room for D.Va’s MEKA and Reinhardt to walk through comfortably side-by-side yet.

It was on her list.

“Welcome back, team,” Winston looked up from his computer, the corners of his lips turning down as he adjusted his glasses, worry filling his tone as he abandoned his work. “Angela-”

“Everyone’s stable,” she replied, adjusting Fareeha’s arm slung over her shoulder. “But  _someone_ is spending the night in the med bay.”

“I’m fine.” Despite the protest, the woman’s head had already started to lull forward, leaning more and more on their resident medic. “Stopped bleeding.”

“Yes, that does count as an improvement.” Angela sighed. “I’m sorry, Winston, but someone else will have to do the debriefing.”

Lena groaned lightly, likely a bit sore she’d be putting off talking to her girlfriend a while longer than she’d hoped.

“ _I_  can do the debriefing.” Reinhardt offered, putting a bit of forced cheer into his voice. Although he seemed fine physically, new gouges in the metal of his armor proved he’d taken a beating himself, too much for Brigitte to patch up while they were in the field. Nothing that threatened the structural integrity of his suit, of course, but… well, he  _was_ getting on in years. As much as she loved him as a mentor, a comrade, and a godfather, even she had to acknowledge he needed rest more than anything.

Winston seemed to be of a similar mind, if not for…  _quite_ the same reasons. “Oh, no, the last time you gave a mission debriefing, it lasted four hours, and the report itself consisted of hardly any pertinent information.”

“That was twenty years ago!” He grumbled, passing an armored hand through his white hair. “If I’d  _known_ it would haunt me this long, I would’ve taken it more seriously.” A low chuckle. “I just didn’t want to do the paperwork part back then.”

“It’s alright, love.” Lena lightly patted his hammer. “You  _do_ get carried away when you’re telling a story. I can do the debriefing.”

“I’ll do it.” D.Va offered, setting her MEKA beside the docking station she’d pretty much thrown together from spare parts salvaged from the destroyed systems. Off to the side sat her cot, because the pilot seemed extremely keen on remaining close to her weapon in the event of Talon staging an attack, and no amount of assurances from Winston that they wouldn’t breach the perimeter easily seemed capable of persuading her to move into one of the quarters further inside the base. “MEKA’s core needs to recharge a little before I run the diagnostic program anyway.”

“Hana, you really don’t have to-”

“It’s fine!” She laughed, crawling out of the MEKA and plugging in the cable, nodding as the screen flashed the percentage. “Besides, I know a thing or two about concise communication.”

While Reinhardt chuckled, murmuring something along the lines of only allowing a hero to tease him like that, Lena blinked over to wrap the younger woman up in a hug, hurriedly thanking her before explaining that Emily would  _kill_ her if she missed another comm date and disappearing off to her quarters. Angela called out something about a check up the following morning and to not be late- and blinking all the way through the base  _did_ qualify as late- but it likely fell on deaf ears.

Brigitte couldn’t help but smile a little. After years of hearing stories about them- of knowing Angela as a friend and doctor, separate from her Mercy persona, and the same for Lena- it still felt strange to realize that she’d officially joined those stories.

Then her gaze drifted to the MEKA and its dock before darting towards D.Va and Winston, the two heading into the separate room they used to track the progress of their missions and what limited intelligence they received from some… helpful sources.

She knew her armor and Reinhardt’s would need repairs before they went back out, the same as the mech. The difference being, Brigitte didn’t plan on doing those repairs tonight; it would take a fair bit of metal to replace the dented parts but they didn’t run into any functional issues when she’d done a preliminary check on the way back. As uncomfortable as it might be, they’d be able to don their suits if the situation called for it.

But she’d stole enough glances over at D.Va to know that the woman tested and upgraded and retested her MEKA religiously. If she had five hours of downtime, four of them would be dedicated to ensuring the machine would be ready for the next mission. If that meant sacrificing sleep, then so be it, and with her going over the debriefing with Winston, that meant even  _less_  time for D.Va to get some well deserved rest.

However… as a general rule, mechanics didn’t cross those sorts of boundaries. One just didn’t  _jump_ into another’s project without asking; collaboration was one thing but going ahead with a repair or an alteration without permission could almost be insulting. Papa taught her to be respectful of other mechanics- even if they didn’t know what they were doing, because he seemed rather keen on reminding her that they had the rare sort of knack for machines that most people just didn’t have.

So, doing the necessary repairs to the MEKA could turn out to be a very bad idea, even if she proved more than capable of repairing the fusion cannon that had stopped working midway through the battle.

Then again… D.Va needed to rest, and that seemed the more pressing concern.

Brigitte started towards her quarters, already starting to unlock the mechanisms necessary to free her from her suit. As soon as she changed into her overalls, she’d head back to the MEKA and start on the necessary repairs; even if it required more time for the core to charge for the diagnostic, she could start on the cosmetic fixes. D.Va had plenty of spare parts from the back-up MEKA she’d call in to replace hers as they got destroyed, and the cannibalized ones sat in a corner off to the side of her cot.

As she pulled off the pieces of her own armor, Brigitte quickly checked them over to confirm the damages, mentally taking note of what would need attention in the morning and what could wait until they had more scrap. Reinhardt’s Crusader armor would be the higher priority, seeing as they’d be hard pressed to find a suitable replacement in the heat of battle if his barrier went down. Repairing Fareeha’s Raptora boosters would be a lesser concern, considering how deeply Angela’s brow furrowed when she checked the woman over; out of all of them, the Doctor would probably suggest she sit the next mission out to recover.

Changing into her red overalls and a white tank top, both stained by oil and grease over the years, Brigitte threw her tool belt around her waist and slipped back over to the MEKA after swinging past the debriefing room, listening for a moment to Winston’s low baritone through the door. She probably had twenty minutes, which wouldn’t be an  _abundance_ of time, but it would be enough to start the diagnostic and repair the fusion cannon, maybe even replace the right booster that had taken a shot early in the fight.

Pulling on leather gloves- beaten and battered from over use- she got to work, checking the status on the charge and hitting the diagnostic program the moment she could run it. Reaching into her back pocket, she skimmed the pertinent paragraphs of the MEKA’s operating manual before dismantling the fusion cannons; she’d read it in full at least a dozen times, just in case she had a chance to talk to D.Va about the  _one_ topic they could share in common, though now proved to be the first time she’d had the chance to apply that knowledge. Thankfully, it followed patterns she could easily decipher, based in part on previous models her Papa had helped design. It made the work go quickly, her fingers easily pulling it apart as she held her tools between clenched teeth when they weren’t in use, accustomed to the sharp taste of metal in her mouth.

When she’d fitted the new fusion cannon in place and replaced the visor, she glanced over to the doorway, confirming D.Va hadn’t finished the debriefing yet. A quick check of the diagnostic gave her a better understanding of what else the MEKA needed, including more than just a new booster; the fuel line that fed it had ruptured as well, causing the safety valve to activate to prevent the whole thing from going up in flames, which would require her to remove part of the chassis before she even started on the booster. However, a quick check of the parts pile supplied her with a fuel line, plus enough washers to hook it up, and a closer inspection turned up a set of boosters that ran much better than the ones currently installed, though they also required more fuel consumption.

Brigitte bit her lip, looking back at the mech. Repairs were one thing but actually upgrading it…

“We have to bring our best,” she said softly, scooping up the boosters and silently apologizing to Papa. He’d be awfully sore if he knew what she was planning but hopefully D.Va would be a tad more forgiving.

Now that she thought about it, there were a few places where she could integrate more armored plating without sacrificing the structural integrity or changing the aerodynamics. Not that she would implement  _those_ changes without asking first, of course, but planning out the schematics in the back of her head while she worked made everything flow smoothly. By the time she’d installed the new boosters and ran the diagnostic again, she could list at least ten possible upgrades to improve the MEKA’s combat capabilities, and better protect its pilot.

She could probably even improve the fusion cannons, if she studied the manual a bit closer.

As the second diagnostic ran, she took a seat on the furthest edge of D.Va’s cot, hazel eyes roving over the mech. Missiles- up on the shoulders, if she bulked up the armor, there could conceivably be enough room to house some micromissiles for added damage. After all, while increasing the defensive capabilities, a little extra offense couldn’t hurt.

“What are you doing?”

Brigitte nearly dropped her wrench, startled by the voice behind her and whipping around to find D.Va standing there, hands on her hips as she peered at her mech. “Uh, well, I-I thought, maybe- since you were doing the debriefing, I could do the repairs for your MEKA?” She tried to beat down the blush she could feel creeping up her neck. “I know you won’t get any rest until after the repairs are complete, so, I just thought… we’re all tired and you need to sleep.”

D.Va nodded, coming around the side of the cot to check the diagnostic report. “Did you replace both boosters?”

“Uh, yeah.” She didn’t know if she should stand up or stay seated or run to her quarters- of the three options, a retreat seemed like the most sound, but she steeled her nerves and cleared her throat. “The fuel line for the busted one ruptured, so since I was in there, I thought I’d modify the fuel lines so you could use the newer model. It should make maneuvering easier.”

Reading over the report, D.Va nodded to herself. “You kept busy. That’s a lot of work to do in two hours.”

Brigitte’s brows rose; she hadn’t even noticed the time. “It wasn’t that much.” Then, she ducked her head. “Sorry I didn’t ask you first. I just thought-”

“It’s fine,” she replied, turning around and smiling softly, dark brown eyes warm, like melted chocolate. “Thanks for having my back. I don’t think I’d trust anyone else to do MEKA’s repairs, besides myself.”

Now that came as high praise, and she lost the fight to control her blush as the corners of her lips tugged up into a smile. “Thanks. I’m just… glad I could help, D.Va.”

Walking over, she sat down on her cot and sighed, obviously relieved to be off her feet and tugging off her gloves. “You’re one of the only people who  _only_ use my screenname, you know? You don’t have to; you can call me Hana.”

“Oh?” Brigitte glanced to her side, watched as the woman pulled off her head set and put it aside but looked away before she could get caught staring. “I just thought… I mean, you’ve earned the recognition. You’re an amazing gamer and a national hero.”

“What do  _you_ know about gaming?” A teasing lilt to her voice.

“Not much,” she replied, reaching to scratch at the back of her neck. “But I guess I could watch a stream sometime? There’s plenty of your vids, aren’t there?”

“Yeah, but those are more performances. You won’t get the real taste of gaming from that.” And, for whatever reason, Hana moved a bit closer and rested her head against Brigitte’s shoulder. “Tomorrow, we can try some Starcraft. I’ll show you how to play.”

“That- that sounds great!” The blush that had started by crawling up her neck reached all the way to the tips of her ears as she tried to remain still, not wanting to jostle the woman. “I mean, I’d be okay just watching you play, too. You seem really intent when you’re, ya know, focused, and that’d be cool to watch- I mean, I just admire, um… Hana?”

Somewhere during the jumble of words that tumbled from her mouth, Brigitte noticed that the weight settled against her seemed somewhat… heavier, all of a sudden, and the light snoring that rose up in the silence after she’d stopped gave her a pretty big indicator as to why.

Well, at least she could be proud of a mission accomplished; Hana would  _definitely_ get the rest she deserved tonight.

With a chuckle, she carefully turned so she could grab the woman by the shoulders, moving her headset out of the way to lay her down properly in the cot. She’d planned on tucking Hana in and then heading to her own quarters but… as it turned out… the MEKA pilot could be rather…  _clingy_  in her sleep, and while Brigitte could easily muscle her way out of the arms suddenly wrapped around her waist, she wasn’t sure she could do so without waking Hana up.

“Guess I’m… sleeping here tonight,” she said to no one in particular, though she did cast a glance around to make sure they were alone. As long as she woke up first and managed to sneak back to her quarters, no one would know.

* * *

As it turned out, she didn’t sneak back to her room. She didn’t even manage to wake up first. No, she became aware slowly, groggily acknowledging the cot beneath her shifting as Hana sat up and stretched, but the desire to return to sleep overpowered all else, even the little voice in the back of her head that started setting off alarm bells. She didn’t drop off immediately, though, half listening to the voices filling the room.

“Good morning, Angela! Did you get enough sleep?”

“Don’t let the coffee cup fool you, Hana; I got  _just_ as much sleep as I intended.” Angela’s voice held a bit of a mischievous lilt to it, as it usually did when she and Fareeha spent a night in the med bay. Even injured, they always found ways to be… occupied, primarily by each other. “I’m pleased to see you got some well deserved rest. You usually spend so much time fretting over your MEKA, you hardly relax at all.”

“You know, I think you’re right! I was so tired last night, I didn’t even have a chance to  _start_ my repairs!”

Brigitte’s brows furrowed as she frowned. Not that she felt miffed about being denied credit for doing the repairs but she found it odd that Hana wouldn’t mention it.

“You… didn’t?” Their medic seemed equally perplexed.

“No, but it’s fine. I’ll do them after breakfast.” And then Hana giggled, getting up from the cot. “But, you know, I had a  _really_ good dream! That makes up for crashing early, I think.”

“A really good dream?” A very deliberate pause. “Did it happen to involve Brigitte?”

Slowly, she opened her eyes, looking at Hana’s back as she shifted her weight between the balls of her feet, a nervous posture she hadn’t seen out of the woman before.

“Uh, what- what makes you think that?” With a little nervous laugh, she ran a hand through her hair, the locks catching the shine of the lights overhead. “I mean… okay, you’re not  _wrong_ ; I’m just curious if I’m that… obvious.”

“Well, dear, if I’m honest, both of you are rather transparent. You two have been dancing around each other for months. Lena and I have a running bet regarding who will ask out who first.” Blue eyes met Brigitte’s for a brief moment, the silent yet insistent ‘yes, I’m serious’ ringing loud and clear before her attention returned to Hana. “But, to answer your question, no, that’s not what tipped me off. Turn around.”

Obviously not anticipating what she would find upon doing so, the MEKA pilot did as told, immediately freezing when her gaze landed on the woman still lying in her cot.

Propping her head up on her hand, Brigitte decided to take a shot. “So… did you wanna play some Starcraft or…”

Hana raised a finger, mouth open for a moment before she spoke. “Last night, you…” Her gaze darted over, taking note of the MEKA’s replaced fusion cannon. “… and, we talked about Starcraft…” Slowly, she winced. “Did we… do anything  _else_?”

“Uh… no?” She shrugged. “You… fell asleep after the Starcraft part.”

“Oh, good.” A sigh of relief. “I’d rather be able to remember that if it really happened.”

“… remember what?”

“I’m here, I’m here!” Lena blinked into the room, stopping beside Angela. “Not late! In fact, I’m early!”

“By thirty seconds.” The good doctor rolled her eyes but linked her arm through the other woman’s, steering her towards the med bay. “Come on. We should leave the love birds.”

“Love birds?” A quick glance around brought Lena’s gaze to the only other two people in the room and a wide smile lit up her face. “Well it’s about  _bloody_ time! You two have fun! I gotta tell Em I won the bet!”

“Ah,  _you_ didn’t win; Brigitte technically asked first.”

“Wha?”

Angela smirked. “Hana thought it was a dream.”

“That’s rubbish; she still asked!” As the two walked, they continued their argument, and a groan echoed down the hallway as Fareeha realized she’d undoubtedly be called in to settle the matter.

Hana put a hand to her face. “Hopefully, she’ll keep it down when she does talks to Emily. And Angela won’t tease us out loud.”

“Why?” Slowly, Brigitte sat up, swinging her legs over the side of the cot. “Is it because… it’s not… true?”

Removing her hand, a frown tugged at her lips as she sat down, about a foot of space between them. “It…  _might_ be true… if you want it to be.”

Slowly, she pulled off her gloves- she didn’t usually sleep with them on, honestly, but she also didn’t usually get pulled down to sleep by her crush, either- and set her hand on top of Hana’s. “I do. If you do?”

“I do.” A smile, wide and bright and captivating, not like the ones she wore when doing vids or promos or even her streams. This smile wasn’t meant for a camera, just for her. “And, if you want, I  _can_ show you how to play Starcraft, or we could just work on the MEKA. Or your armor?”

“I want to see you play.” Her fingers curled, holding Hana’s hand. “Maybe we can look over MEKA later?”

“Yeah. Okay.” She stood up, lightly tugging Brigitte up in the process. “But how about breakfast first?”

“Sounds great.” They started walking, heading towards the little break room they’d converted into a kitchen, since the old one got destroyed in some sort of accident before Overwatch disbanded. Something about eggs and a microwave. “But… if that’s not why, then what would it matter if Lena and Angela make a big deal about it? Because… you know they’re going to make a big deal about it.” She chuckled. “They’re like sisters to me. I won’t be  _allowed_ to not be teased about it.”

“Honestly?” Hana laughed, only slightly nervous. “I’m not sure how Reinhardt’s going to react. I think he’s a pretty big fan of me, and you’re his goddaughter, so he might… go over-the-top? In, uh, celebrating, I mean.” She paused. “And, if your dad asks? He still can’t disassemble my MEKA. You’re the only one allowed to touch it.”

“I’ll keep that in mind.” She smiled. “But don’t worry. They’ll love you.”

Brigitte lightly squeezed the warm hand in hers and her lips pulled wider when Hana squeezed back.

**Author's Note:**

> I just think these two would be cute together and wanted to do something for that.


End file.
